The Anatomy of Betrayal

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by GC Rust, Jul 5, 2008.

  1. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    The Anatomy Of...

    "Megatron will lead the Decepticons into the dust bin of history."

    I let my words carry to the corpse I still hold in my hand before I finally let go of it, letting it pile unceremoniously to the floor. For an instant, a fleeting microsecond, I'm frozen in terror. I stare at the fluids already pooling in my palm and digest the horror. I've crossed the line, from here on, I will be nothing more then a traitor to my own, even if only myself will know of it.

    My fingers close in around the fluids in my palm. It's over. No one else saw. I can choose to back out at any time now, but that's not why I came here. If I ran now, then the murder I just committed would be meaningless. I have blood on my hands - the least I can do is make that mean something.

    I walk to the window, numbly. My legs are steady - they should be shaking. There should at least be shaking. Every processor in my head is screaming at me, condemning my actions as well as myself, and yet my body functions normally.

    I let my gaze sweep over the ruins. It was a beautiful city. I can admit that here, in the presence of the dead. The true crime was what our battle did to it, but it's death is a fitting funeral pyre for the combat going on across the avenue.

    Optimus is down, I didn't expect that. A quick survey of the area reveals the cause - a lone pistol. Megatron must have picked it up during the confusion. This will make things all the more difficult, but it's nothing that cannot be overcome.

    My body moves on its own accord again, it seems. I make my way over the crumpled corpse and its two brothers. And while I calmly walk over the Decepticons I just murdered, my mind wanders back to that terrible moment a few minutes ago.

    Optimus had Megatron on his knees, begging for mercy. This was the chance I had waited for since time immortal. Megatron's constant state of warfare would lead to the destruction of the Decepticon race - be it through internal conflict or finally meeting an opponent we could not defeat. Our homeworld was dying, almost broken but the Autobots were broken - driven off the very surface of Cybertron! An annoyance, maybe, but there was finally a chance to repair, rearm, and upgrade for the next conquest.

    But there would be none of those things with Megatron at the helm. Instead he takes a sledgehammer to a gnat, with obvious results. Eventually you'll hit the gnat, but not before all but breaking the hammer. And the Decepticons had been broken in the fight for this city. There needed to be a chance to rest, to heal. If that meant offering the Autobots a peace accord, then that was that. The Autobots should have been beneath the notice of the Decepticons anyway.

    Then I had noticed Reflector in the building, preparing to snipe Optimus in the back of the head. That could not be allowed! If Megatron lived, then his prestige only grew, and the death of the Decepticon race was all but assured. So I had flown up to the window - I'd startled Reflector. I dropped two of his three bodies in my initial attack. The third had attempted to flee but I'd cut him down at the knees before slamming him against the wall and murdered him by both crushing his neck and shooting him in the chest point blank.

    I still can hear his last breath even as I move towards the hatch. He asked me 'Why?'

    I exit the building, flying up and arching around even as I do so. It must appear as though I'm coming up on the scene from another part of the city. Appearances must be maintained after all.

    I touch down a little ways from Megatron, and I walk deliberately towards him. This, at least, is no act. While I hate the madman, years of service still force me to walk up and check. Surprisingly, he's still functional - though for how much longer remains to be seen. He looks at me with broken, defeated optics and for another instant, I'm frozen into indecision. But Reflector's life blood still pools in my clutched palm as a gentle reminder of all that I have done, and all that I still may be called to do.

    "Duh...don't leave me...." Megatron manages to rasp, still looking at me with those defeated optics. "...Soundwave."

    I kneel down, I place a comforting hand on Megatron's back - and thus intermingle the last of Reflector's life fluids with Megatron's own.

    "As you command, Megatron."

    I scoop him up as I hear Starscream barking orders for the retreat. He will have to be dealt with as well - in time. He would make a useful figurehead, not that I intent to make it an easy transition for him. Still, losing gracefully and offering my services couldn't hurt my own standing. I nod to Rumble to bring Megatron's fusion cannon. He and his brethren have no idea, of course. Megatron's earlier command to jam communications allowed me to seperate myself from them for this critical juncture. They will be told, in time.

    Reflector's comment comes back to me as I brave Autobot fire to get into Astrotrain's ever expansive cargo hold. Starscream at least has the decency to wait for all to board before he himself does, that's a mark for him.

    As I cross the threshhold into safety, I set Megatron down and the gratitude in his face jars me. Truly, I've played my part well over the years - he still believes I am loyal. Perhaps a whisper in the audio receiver of someone? To get rid of the wounded? Obviously they would only slow down our escape.

    Yes, that might work.

    I settle in, allow my partners to return to their stationary forms, and brood. The loss of Optimus will galvanize the remaining Autobot forces, and the death of Megatron and his obvious successor will throw the Decepticons into chaos, if only momentarily. What should have been a glorious new age of prosperity for the Decepticon people has become something else entirely. There's a good chance that we may even lose Cybertron, depending on who is chosen to lead the Autobots in Prime's stead.

    At least Megatron will be out of the equation. And that, Reflector, is the true reason for my betrayal. There must always be a Decepticon people, and because of my actions there always will be. Come what may from this point on, at least the madness that has gripped the Decepticons has ended.

    And that still doesn't make me feel anything less then a traitor.
    Last edited: Dec 6, 2008
  2. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    The Anatomy Of Command

    " should be in cargo bay fourteen by the end of the week. The Engineers also want to take a look at the super structure in grid five-alpha-seven to make sure there's not some stress cracking. Also, Research has requested an extra 20% draw off the power grid for a good two standard Terran weeks so they can..."

    Ultra Magnus held up a hand and Perceptor paused and glanced up from his memo pad to cock and eyebrow ridge.

    "Thank you Perceptor, but I think that'll be all for now." Ultra Magnus said in his confident baritone. "You can leave the Memo Pad on my desk and I'll look over the rest and approve what I need to. Right now, I think I need to take a little breather."

    "Of course, Commander." Perceptor nodded, setting the pad down on the desk made out of orange metal as Ultra Magnus tipped his massive chair back in a resting posture. The Autobot scientist cocked his head to his side and politely asked, "Will that be all, sir?"

    "Yes Perceptor, thank you."

    Perceptor nodded and exited Ultra Magnus' office. As the hatch hissed closed, Ultra Magnus let his chair snap back and he let out a sigh of tension. Leaning forward on his desk, he pinched the bridge of his nasal bump and shut off his optics for a moment. It was a gesture he'd copied from Humans, and while it lacked any sort of physical benefits, the release of tension in something so minute helped his mental state far more then he would have allowed himself to believe not more then six standard Terran months before.

    Magnus winced as he stood, his servos whining in protest for a moment as the control runs fought off the lock ups of joints in need of a good oiling. Positive his legs weren't going to go out on him, Magnus walked around his desk, shooting the memo pad a slight look of contempt and walked over to his floor-to-ceiling window in the main tower of Autobot City.

    "City" being a relative term, given the half completed skeletons of buildings and temporary recharging stations for the technicians and workers both Human and Cybertronian responsible in construction. On most days, the sight of that frenzied but organized work gave Ultra Magnus some sense of pride, but today...

    Ultra Magnus let his optics settle on the far eastern corner of the city, and the green grass beyond. Clicking up the magnification on his optics, he brought into focus the gathering of Humans just beyond the city limits brandishing signs and shouting obscenities to any worker in earshot.

    There were more of them today, Ultra Magnus observed grimly. He hadn't realized there was a section of the Human population so against supporting the Autobots in their ongoing civil war, but even that was secondary to the sobering indication that a vast majority of Humans couldn't tell and didn't really care who was an Autobot or Decepticon. All they knew, all that mattered, was that Cybertronians had no business on Earth and should get off their planet.

    Ultra Magnus could somewhat understand their reasoning, Primus knew the Decepticons loved causing as much chaos as possible. But the open hostility to the Autobots and the construction of Autobot City in general had come as a shock to even the Autobots who had been on Earth for some time. So for Ultra Magnus, handpicked by Optimus Prime to be city commander and a new "immigrant" to Earth, it was even more jarring.

    Magnus was jerked out of his thoughts by a sudden flash of light near the western gate. His gaze immediatly shifting, Magnus gapped in horror. The western gate was ablaze, the remains of a cargo truck evident around the blast. A Car Bomb. As Magnus watched, the old warhorse Kup was all but whipping the younger Autobots, Blurr and Hot Rod, into action with water hoses to put out the fire while First Aid and the rest of the Protectobots raced into the blaze to look for the driver of the truck...and the Autobot sentry on duty.

    This represented a dangerous escalation in hostilities to the Autobots, and Ultra Magnus tried to grapple with the concept of such a tactic when motion from the other side of his field of view drew his optics back to the group of protesters. The protesters had obviously been waiting for the bomb, because they were already swarming that section of the city's construction. Two Human workers were dragged under the tidal wave of bodies and Ultra Magnus could make out instruments in the protesters hands - pipes, bricks, anything else they could use as a weapon. And that wasn't all, Chromia barely missing a well tossed Molotov Cocktail.

    Ultra Magnus sensed the chaos seeping into his command area, and for one instant, was uncertain of the action he could take. But then his optics locked on the ground, where two Transformers also watched the carnage. One was green on green in color, the other white and pink. Springer had his sword drawn and was stalking towards the violent protesters, Arcee seemed to be doing her level best to stop Springer before he did anything rash.

    Memo Pad forgotten, Ultra Magnus rushed towards the tower lift. As he did, he keyed his communicator.

    "Blaster here." A familiar voice said over the com.

    "Blaster, this is Ultra Magnus. I want every security camera and recording device trained on the Western and Eastern Perimeter, ASAP! We need to get all the evidence we can, so make sure you back up all the recordings."

    "Understood boss man. Should I send out a distress signal to the local authorities?"

    Ultra Magnus entered the lift, hit the ground floor button and waited for the car to begin moving before he replied. "Negative. Contact the State Government and inform them of the situation. Local Police won't be able to contain and neutralize that mob - we'll need the National Guard."

    "And what about our side?" Blaster asked, an edge creeping into his voice, almost like a sick hunger. Ultra Magnus was shocked to hear it, but after what just happened he couldn't blame the generally cheerful Autobot.

    "That's already about to blow up in our faces. I'm heading out to try and prevent an incident, but get a signal to Streetwise. I may need to detain a few Autobots."

    "Gotcha, Ultra Magnus."

    Springer paid Arcee's pleas absolutely no mind. He'd just witnessed two good men - men with families to support - get beaten and almost killed just for standing in the way of filth. Springer had never much cared for the Organics of this planet, but he had to admit the majority of them weren't bad. He'd even become friends with some of them, but this was just too much. From the moment those so-called "protesters" had shown up, Springer had always known they'd be trouble. And now they were trying to rip apart what was going to be his new home? All because they didn't want the Autobots on Earth? What did they think the Decepticons would do if the Autobots didn't have a localized presence on Earth? Just ignore it?!

    Springer brought his sword up. Even at this range, he'd cut down more then half the rabble. It would likely be enough to send the vermin scurrying back into their holes and frankly, nobody'd miss em.

    Springer never brought his sword down. A powerful arm grabbed his just as he was about to swing, and struggle as he could, he couldn't break free of it.

    "And just what do you think you're doing, Springer?!" Ultra Magnus demanded almost desperately. "What do you think will happen if you kill them?"

    "The rest will leave, that's what!" Springer snapped back.

    Ultra Magnus shook Springer. "That won't help anyone! All it will do is prove their point! No lasting harm has been done so far. Mirage got shook up, but otherwise he's okay and the truck was remote controlled."

    "And those two workers are..."

    "Are knocked senseless, but still alive!" Ultra Magnus pleaded. "Look at them Springer - they're causing a ruckus but generally not damaging anything. If they wanted to, they could have torn down this entire sector, but they aren't. And the reason they aren't is because they want us to press first!"

    "I..." Springer stared at the sea of organic madness in front of him and couldn't see what Ultra Magnus apparently saw. "...Are you sure?" He asked, dubious.

    "Positive." The city commander nodded.

    Springer lowered his sword arm. "Alright, so they're just being annoying, but that still doesn't solve the problem of how we stop them from being so damn annoying. Eventually, they'll make one of our people snap."

    "Streetwise and Blades are running interception for possible incidents, but I agree we need to do something." Ultra Magnus' lips twitched in what was almost a grin, and the look in his optics was conspiratorial as he brought up his com. "Blaster?"

    "Yo Boss Man?"

    "I need a feedback discharge in my location, set it for 20 Terran seconds, then patch me into the network. Oh, and don't forget our little "bonus"."

    "Gotcha!" Blaster practically grinned through the com.

    Suddenly, every speaker operational in Autobot City let loose a howl of Feedback. Autobots grimaced but generally turned down their audio gain. Humans, on the other hand, had no such option. The Protesters stopped their mad rush to clutch their ears in agony as the sound cut into their very bones.

    "Now hear this!" Ultra Magnus' voice boomed from the speakers. "You people are trespassing on Sovereign Cybertronian soil, and as such can be constructed as an act of war against the people of Cybertron and the Autobots in general! I, however, am feeling mighty generous today and I give you the opportunity to clear out of here. In roughly twenty Earth minutes, troops from this state's National Guard will be arriving to arrest anyone illegally on Cybertronian soil. For your sake, I suggest you be somewhere else."

    Ultra Magnus' com chirped, and he suppressed another smile. That chirp meant the "bonus" was active - and Blaster had just temporarily shut down the recorders. A rogue spike in the power grid, a shame really but not unexpected given a brand new fusion plant handling an untested load. So sad.

    "And let me make something perfectly clear to each and every one of you." Ultra Magnus' voice had taken on all the gentleness of tempered steel. "If I see any one of your faces in and around my city again, I will personally toss that person into lower orbit."

    Ultra Magnus looked out on the group of dumbfounded faces.

    "See if I don't."
  3. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    The Anatomy Of Love

    "Come on, you can do better then that!"

    Orion Pax chuckled, putting on a burst of extra speed in his land mode. The Female in front of him let out a squeel of laughter as Orion transformed and executed a perfect, high speed tackle hug. The vehicle he hugged skidded sideways and transformed, chuckling along with Orion and embracing him.

    "You're getting better." Ariel commented.

    "That or you're just letting me catch you faster." Orion said with a knowing grin.

    Ariel made a slight shrug. "Maybe...maybe not."

    "Oh-ho. So you mean I am doing all on my own?" Orion smirked. "So does that mean...your getting older?"

    Ariel mock-slapped Orion, her mouth agap in a half-gigle half-shout. Orion chuckled and got off of her, helping her to her feet as he did.

    "I, mister, am not getting older." Ariel told him as she began walking down the aveune. Orion caught up quickly a put an arm around her. "I just happen to be in need of a new accelerator."

    "Oh?" Orion asked playfully. "Well, I can think of something to get that accelerator back in top shape."

    Orion grinned wickedly as Ariel's face panels heated. The female glanced from side to side of the avenue, but those bots within listening distance merely chuckled and looked away.

    "You are a wicked, evil minded Autobot Orion Pax and you will come to a horrible end." Ariel said.

    "Maybe." Orion's voice had gone suddenly serious. "But know this Ariel - if that ever happens, I hope it's protecting you."

    Ariel was speechless. She looked into his optics and realized he was completely serious. "I..." She glanced away, then looked back and her expression was hard...but Orion saw through that thin mask and saw the touched look in her optics. "I don't need protection, Orion Pax."

    "I know you don't." Orion said much more cheerfully, hugging Ariel tight. "Still, let a guy maintain dreams of glorious deactivation in defense of the Female."

    "If you insist." Ariel said, slightly disturbed and slightly awed at the same time.


    "So...he's dead."

    Chromia and Moonracer looked like they wanted to melt into the deck below their feet as they looked away from their leader. Seated in the command center of the Autobot Resistance Headquarters on the surface of Cybertron, Elita One gazed at a wall off to her side, her hand a fist up against her mouth.

    "Has a new Prime been selected?" Elita asked, calmly.

    "Yes ma'am." Moonracer spoke before Chromia, but still could not look at Elita. "Ultra Magnus has command."

    "Very well then." Elita sighed and slumped back in her chair. "Advise Autobot City we await their orders."

    Chromia and Moonracer left the office at a dismissive wave from Elita's hand. As the hatch closed behind them, Elita's defenses crumpled. Her face twisted in agony, and she buried her head in her hands, suddenly envious of the few Humans she'd met to be able to expell moisture from their eyes. At that very motion, Elita One wished very much she could cry.

    But she couldn't. Instead, she reached down to a bottom panel of her administrative desk and tapped in a three digit code - 729 - and a slot pushed out, revealing a small holocube. Elita took the cube in shaking hands and keyed it to life, and gazing out of it was a smiling, young bot who was once named Orion Pax.

    "Oh Orion..." Elita breathed. "Why?"

    Why had he left her like this? To die in mortal combat with a madman on a world not his own, for what? The Decepticons would come back with a new leader, the war would rage on. Why sacrifice himself like that?

    His words came back to her, words spoken so long ago and of an incident at the factory where he and she had worked alongside their long time friend, Dion. The time the Decepticons had captured both of them, and Elita had saved him, only to have him save her in turn. She knew then, why he hadn't given up at the end, when Megatron had a gun almost screwed into his head, why he had sacrificed his existance...

    ...He'd done it for her. The Autobots, the cause of freedom, and even for the Humans, yes. But Elita knew, in the forefront of Optimus' processors at that moment was her face...and what Megatron would do to her once he was gone.

    Elita leaned back, and held the Holocube to her chest and deactivated her optics. They were suppose to go together, that was what they'd promised themselves when they'd reawakened in Alpha Trion's lab...they would go together. But Optimus - Orion - had left her behind to carry on as best as she could. It was just so blessed unfair...

    "Elita!" Chromia burst into her office so suddenly that Elita jumped, and dropped the Holocube in the process. Both Female watched in horror as the cube clattered to the floor, and promptly shattered. Elita watched in agony as Orion Pax's smiling visage flickered once, then seemed to vanish. In that brief nano-second, Elita registered the flickering image's smile had seemed to have been tinged with bitter sweet reget...but that had to have been her own imagination - hadn't it?

    Chromia stared in horror, then shook herself. "Elita, I'm sorry but Moonbase One has just been destroyed!"

    Elita glanced up sharply, the agony in her eyes betraying her calm voice. "Decepticons?"

    "No." Chromia shook her head. "Something else...something big."

    Elita stood, gently stepping over the broken Holocube, and began barking orders. The pain receeded - it didn't vanish, but it had been replaced by her own sense of duty to the Female Autobots who looked to her for guidance and strength. Orion Pax, Optimus Prime, the Cybertronian she, to use a Human term, Loved had left her to carry on without him, but he'd instilled within her the sense of duty and responsibility of a Prime, and right now her Autobots - and his as well, she thought fondly - needed her.

    If they insist.
  4. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    The Anatomy of Death


    They rushed upon his prone form with a swiftness that ignored their own injuries. Their own damage forgotten, the two Autobots known as Ironhide and Ratchet quickly bent over the upper half of their comrade. Jazz's optics were shut down, and he was unmoving, save for the steady stream of bluish liquid coursing out of his ruptured waist.

    "Oh...Jazz..." Ironhide seemed hesitant to touch his comrade, but Ratchet had no such problems.

    "MOVE!" The medical officer practically roared, knocking the weapons specialist off the side. Ratchet's hands were like lightning, repairing and assessing the damage as best he could.

    "He's gonna be okay, right Ratchet?" Ironhide asked quietly, gazing down at his ravaged friend and reminding himself forcefully he'd seen bots in worse shape make a full recovery.

    "I can't say." Ratchet said in an emotionless tone. There was no room for fear, for pain. Ratchet was a machine in the literal sense, moving from damage point to damage point, fighting the desperate fight to save a mechanoid's spark. "He's suffered major ruptures and damages from his fight with Megatron. I'm not certain he's even capable of pulling through."

    "You can't say that!" Ironhide bellowed, jostling Ratchet and almost causing Jazz more injury. Ratchet snarled and turned from Jazz, clamping a hand on Ironhide's face, just under his jaw.

    "Don't. Do. That. Again." Ratchet said in a deathly serious voice. "I'm doing my best, and you jostling me isn't helping a thing."

    Ironhide's expression darkened. He yanked Ratchet's arm away and opened his mouth, his cannons deploying as well, and was about to say something when he paused. A low, wheezing chuckle drew the gaze of both Autobots down to the ruined form of Jazz. He was awake.

    " over me. I'm...touched."

    "Jazz..." Ironhide said, almost as if seeing his friend talk snapped him out of a bad dream. His cannons retracted and Ratchet resumed his work.

    "...I've looked better." Jazz said weakly, forcing a Human smile.

    "Save your energon." Ironhide advised. "Ratchet will have you fixed up in no time."

    Jazz let out a weak chuckle again. Ratchet uttered an oath in Cybertronian, drawing Ironhide's gaze. Ratchet gave a quick head shake, then bent closer to Ironhide so Jazz would hopefully not overhear.

    "His's extinguishing." Ratchet said without preamble. "I can't stop it without sealing off the damaged areas of his waist, but to do that I either need to find his legs or seal up the wounds without them - but if I do that he'll never walk again."

    "You need his legs?" Ironhide inquired, glancing around and not seeing them in the immediate vicinity. Bending low again, he gripped Ratchet by his shoulders. "Keep him alive. You keep him here while I go look for them. I'll be back in a nano-click."

    Ratchet merely nodded as Ironhide gave Jazz a quick squeeze on his shoulder before jogging off.

    "...where's he...goin?" Jazz inquired.

    "To find where the rest of you went." Ratchet said while continuing to work. "Can't very well dance without feet."

    Jazz found the weak attempt at humor amusing. " point." He finally said. "Soon....soon I'll be one with...the matrix..."

    Ratchet glanced up sharply at that, and saw Jazz was looking at him, smiling slightly.

    "I know...know you don't believe in that kinda thing." Jazz said. "But...I do. Sparks have to come from somewhere, right? Only....only logical...they'd go back where they came from."

    Ratchet shook his head, agitated. The Matrix of the Allspark, as it was called, was a mere theory that supposed somewhere in the vastness of the cosmos there existed a nexus of energy where Sparks gathered after Death, to be called back to the living by the Allspark. Ratchet did not believe that theory - for one thing, a Spark extinguishing barely left any energy to presume to make an intergalactic voyage, let alone carry the personality of the bot it animated.

    "...hey..." Jazz said softly. "...Lemme keep the illusion, okay?"

    Ratchet nodded solemnly. "Okay. Now let's work on patching you up."

    Jazz reached up and knocked Ratchet's hand away before he could continue working. " point. Save it...for those who need it."

    "You need it!" Ratchet bellowed. "Now shut up and save your energon!"

    "Ratchet." Jazz's voice was suddenly strong again. Jazz locked optics with the Medical Officer and seemed to almost be pleading with him. "Let me go. I knew the minute Megatron showed up my days were numbered. At least I went out the way I wanted to - that's a lot more then many of our friends could say."

    "I'm a medical officer." Ratchet said in a mournful voice. "I have to do my best to keep anyone I can alive. There are too few of us to let one slip away without a fight. My enemy wears no emblem, and I'll fight him to the last ditch."

    Jazz chuckled and nodded. "...too late. I can feel myself...slipping off. Please Ratchet...don't worry about me. I went out well enough..."

    Jazz turned his head to a gaggle of Human bystanders, huddled under the dubious protection of a building. One little girl glanced his direction and shyly waved, seemingly oblivious to the fear of the adults around her. Jazz managed a slight wave in return, then turned back to Ratchet.

    "...I think Optimus was right. They are...worth it."


    Jazz's optics were dimming quickly, he lost focus on Ratchet and gazed up at the sky, streaking with missiles and smoke, the sound of battle all around.

    "...this noise is killin my buzz." Jazz said to no one in particular. "Think I'll see what kind of tunes this planet picks up."

    Jazz reclined back and activated his radio. After a quick scan of the radio channels, he suddenly paused at a hard guitar beat accompanied by drums.

    "...Yeah...dig that beat..." Jazz muttered.

    We all came out to Montreux
    On the Lake Geneva shoreline
    To make records with a mobile
    We didn't have much time
    Frank Zappa and the Mothers
    Were at the best place around
    But some stupid with a flare gun
    Burned the place to the ground

    Ratchet continued to work despite Jazz's protests, and chuckled at the music.

    "Nice selection Jazz." Ratchet glanced up at the lack of response. "Jazz?"

    Smooooooooooooooooke on the Waaaaaaaaaaaater.
    Fire in the Sky.
    Smooooooooooooooooooke on the Waaaaaaaaaaaater.

    Ironhide rounded the corner, nestled under one arm was Jazz's lower half.

    "Ratchet! I got em! I GOT EM!"

    Ironhide suddenly paused. Ratchet was hunched over Jazz, almost as if in prayer.

    They burned down the gambling house
    It died with an awful sound
    Funky Claude was running in and out
    Pulling kids out the ground
    When it all was over
    We had to find another place
    But Swiss time was running out
    It seemed that we would lose the race

    "Ratchet?" Ironhide asked, dropping Jazz's legs.

    Ratchet glanced up, not focusing on Ironhide, but shaking his head in a jerky fashion.

    "...No." Ironhide rushed towards his friend, scooping him up and holding his close. Ratchet stood silently, gazing at nothing in particular at all.

    Smoooooooooooooooooke on the Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaater.
    Fire in the Sky.
    Smooooooooooooooooooke on the Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaater.
  5. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    The Anatomy of a Predator

    His world was sensation.

    The light breeze that caressed the underbrush, the faint call of the birds in the distance, the lapping of waves upon the rocks a short distance away. And through the sounds and sights, a familiar sound - the drum beat of a terrified heart and the flood waters of blood being pumped into overtaxed muscles.

    He'd been stalking the beast for over an hour, allowing it to tire itself out for this moment. He could have had it within moments of first encountering it, but chose instead of play the classic game of predator versus prey. It amused him, and he relished the sensations flooding into him.

    The beast, a wild boar, finally emerged from it's crude hiding place among the tall grass. It snorted heavily, a testament to how long and hard it had run. Sniffing the air and glancing about, the boar never noticed the gray metal and gold colored creature crouching almost next to it. Red eyes lit in anticipation, and in an instant the boar squealed in terror as jaws that could tear into battle armor suddenly clamped down along its flank. The boar left the ground and was quickly airborne, but before it got far, the jaws slammed down again, and this time the boar could only manage a meager grunt before its life fled it.

    The beast's life fluids ran down his metal jaws as he held it aloft. He savored the sensation of the warm fluid beginning to trickle down his neck. He knew the creature was dead, but worked it over with a few more powerful snaps of his jaws before finally settling down with it clutched within his mouth. Motion suddenly flickered at the edge of his perception, and he turned to regard the small gaggle of piglets making a dash from their mother's killer.

    He spat out the corpse and let a earth shaking bellow and began stomping after the younglings, but hesitated and finally ceased pursuit. Shaking his massive head, the jaws still dripping with blood, he let out a half-snarl, half-groan, and turned back to the corpse of the sow.

    As he re-entered the clearing with the sow, he regarded the small creature he had snuffed out. The experiences of the hunt were all fresh in his processors, but for his very Spark, he couldn't recall why he'd chased the creature or killed it in the end.

    Grumbling, his form changed. He seemed to lean over then stand up, not on the powerfully built legs that ended with talons that could rip through tanks, but two humanoid feet. His stumpy front arms were replaced by strong, well proportioned arms that ended in hands with five digits. His powerful jaws and razor teeth vanished, in their stead replaced by a dark humanoid head with a face plate and visor.

    Grimlock sat down next to the corpse and regarded his deeds. Even in robot mode, his body was covered in the sow's blood, and unlike a few moments prior he felt unclean. He didn't savor the warmth like he had, now he just felt disquiet in the core of his being.

    Here, in this form, Grimlock was rational, calculating - more then a mental match for his peers despite his simplistic speech patterns. But in his alternate mode, that of a mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex, Grimlock was a force of nature. It was difficult to rationalize with him, difficult to get him to cooperate. It was as if, for some reason, Grimlock contained the spirit of the predator long dead that fought to return.

    Grimlock watched the pyre burn a short time later. It had seemed almost comical, to create a funeral pyre for a simple creature of this island's forest, but Grimlock had carried out the construction and ignition of the pyre without any humor. It was the least he could offer a creature who's sole offense was being able to let Grimlock indulge his savage nature.

    As the flames flickered and the sky changed from blue to twilight's hues of reds, Grimlock worried. Even now he felt the tug. Visor cast in the direction of the forest, Grimlock longed to return to beast mode and hunt again. He knew it wouldn't be long before he did just that, for as strong willed as he was, he could no more stand against this sensation then he could have prevented his own creation. And that worried him.

    Grimlock stood as a statue, watching the creature he had callously hunted turn to ash and bone while it's life fluids still covered it's murderer, and wondered if eventually even this kind of memorial would be typical of him.

    Would Grimlock remain a Autobot Warrior and a steadfast companion of Optimus Prime, or would he become a Predator, a wild thing, no friends or foes...merely predators and prey?

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